


The Dance of the Two Left Feet

by makeshiftrolley



Series: The Dance of the Two Left Feet [7]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makeshiftrolley/pseuds/makeshiftrolley
Summary: A collection of snippets which don't entirely fit in a story or good enough to create a separate fic for it. Would also contain some deleted scenes when I eventually publish some of my longer fics.





	1. I don't blame you for being you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is from a fic I've longed since scrapped but I liked these passages enough to post it. I might go back to this fic.

Reyes closes the distance between them. Jean’s eyes aren’t black as he originally thought. They had small flecks of dark brown within them as though they are nebulae in a dark galaxy.

And shit, Papa Vidal fell in love with Mama Clara’s eyes first. And shit, Papa Vidal compared her eyes to the cosmos, too.

Their first didn’t happen then. The trance binding them breaks when Reyes backs away and Jean returns to flinging insults.

Somehow, that’s better than the alternative. Because Reyes works alone. Because nowhere in his carefully constructed plan to undermine Sloane Kelly does it say, ‘fall in love.’ And nowhere in his carefully constructed plan does it give him instructions on how to deal with the fallout if it doesn’t go his way.

Which it will because Jean Ryder believes strongly in his convictions. And Jean Ryder loves nothing more than his father’s legacy, the Initiative.

And Reyes Vidal, smuggler, exile, the Charlatan doesn’t fit with Jean Ryder, the Alliance poster boy, the good soldier, the hero.

Still, he invites Jean to Sloane’s party not Gabriela Ryder, his partner in crime against Kadara Port.

Because…

Because…

Because for the first time since he got this ticket for a one-way trip to Andromeda, Reyes has no reasonable explanation behind this decision.

(He does. He just doesn’t want to believe it yet).

_Is this a date?_  Jean asks in his message. Reyes’ palms sweat when he replies,  _Only if you want it too ;)_

Jean accepts. He’s outside Outcast HQ by the time Reyes arrives and he wears the same perpetual frown Reyes has grown accustomed to. Only this time Jean replaces his Initiative issued uniform with something nicer-a plaid dress shirt and slacks.

When has he been this handsome?

Or Jean always has been, and Reyes only considers it now because shit, he’s falling.

“You look nice,” Reyes says.

Jean looks at him then looks at the ground and looks back at him again. He mumbles a soft ‘thanks.’ Behind Jean’s thick rimmed glasses, Reyes notices a tinge of pink beneath his tawny cheeks.

He laughs because he has- _needs_  to deny the inevitable.

And…

And…

Reyes leaves him, and Jean complains if he always treats his dates like this. Only the ones who matter, he says to himself. He stops it from leaving his mouth lest Jean thinks Reyes likes him and runs away. That’s what people like Jean Ryder would do. That’s what Reyes is doing now.

\--

Reyes dares to be bold. He slides his fingers under Jean’s chin; a thumb presses his bottom lip.

And and and…

He sees the stars, the galaxies, the entire universe in those black eyes.

And and and…

He falls. Let Jean swallow him in the depths of his eyes. And maybe, just maybe, Reyes will find a place in Jean where they fit.

And.

Jean falls too.

Because underneath the smoke and the sweet taste of whiskey on his lips, Reyes tastes the desperation, the need to have him. Jean has an iron grip on his bicep; he pushes closer and closer, until Reyes feels the familiar heat radiating from his body.

He knows the ending to this tale. By now, he should have said no; run away until he forgets the taste of Jean on his lips.

He still has the chance. He can walk away now.

“Can we get out of here?” Jean says when they part, breath hot on his skin.

Reyes nods, and takes his hand.


	2. serenade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also from the same fic I've scrapped. This takes place at the end so a lot of stuff has happened.

“What changed?”

What changed is the entire fucking universe wants them to be together. It’s like God wrote it in the stars their destinies long before their births. That somewhere in a far-off planet, in a galaxy promising their dreams, he will meet and undeniably fall in love with Reyes Vidal. And no matter how much he runs and pushes him away, fate has an ugly way of stringing them together.

If there is a God, and if he’s listening right now, then he’s a cruel fucking asshole.

“Nothing’s changed,” Jean says. It’s easier to lie. Lie and hope Reyes takes it as a cue to leave.

Instead, Reyes closes the distance between them. He’s dangerously close; Jean can see the lines on his skin, the beauty marks begging to be kissed and his lips-those soft lips inciting memories of a rose-tinted skyline and a caress as sweet as the whiskey on his mouth, of the warm press of skin on skin and pleasured sounds in tune with their heartbeats like a symphony.

And Jean wants them on his lips or anywhere else. Retrace the faded marks on his skin, make new ones.

Shit.

“Talk to me,” he says, his voice growing soft like he fucking cares. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why should I tell you anything?” He says. It’s not supposed to come out as a sob. He’s not supposed to crumble in front of a man writes off as cruel.

And Reyes is not supposed to act like he’s at all concerned, like there’s anything still between them.

Because there isn’t. Anything they had, if it can be called something, died with Sloane Kelly in that cave.

No, there is. The longing glances, the lingering touches and Reyes taking a bullet for him, they mean something.

No, it’s fucking complicated and Jean can’t deal with complicated.

“If I remember correctly, you find it easy to talk to me,” Reyes’ expression is impassive as he responds. So he’s been awake the entire time Jean confessed and if Reyes has been awake for longer, what else did he hear?  He adds with a smug smile. “Easier than Tiangco.”

_Your ex-boyfriend who you dated for five years while you only know me for a few months._ Jean thinks he’s about to say, to rub salt on the wound. Michael’s different. Their relationship is different. They met at fifteen. At fifteen, Michael Tiangco is new to the Citadel. At fifteen, Michael knows four languages yet speaks English with a clipped accent littered with  _ano_ and  _na_. At fifteen, Michael apologizes for his broken English, and a fifteen year old Jean, who still has parents, tells him in Tagalog, he speaks better English than the aliens on the Citadel. And at fifteen, Jean is head over heels in love with a boy long before, he realizes what it all means.  

He’s a completely different person at fifteen than at twenty-five. Hell, he’s a different person yesterday when he never considers inviting Reyes to his room in Ditaeon, sitting on the floor and having a heartfelt chat about feelings.

_You should be happy_ , Michael’s words echo in his head. A closure to a tale Jean has ended 600 years ago, and he’s on the precipice of starting a new one or closing another.

“Jean?” Reyes pulls him out of his thoughts. Amber eyes stare at him; they contrast his dark ones yet Reyes looks at him as though they are a black hole, tethering Jean to its focal point.

Maybe, it’s not just the universe who wants them to be together. Maybe, he wants him-Shit. No, it’s complicated and he’s confused and-

“I’m scared,” he finally admits both to Reyes and to himself; his voice is as brittle as thin ice and any moment, he can break. “I’m scared of what you are, of what you could be, of this world of yours that’s dark and uncertain and-” He’s fucking crying. Shit, he’s fucking crying. “ _I’m so scared of loving you, but I do._ ”

Only after does he realizes Reyes has twined their fingers together. He swipes a thumb under his eyelid, wiping the wetness there. If his intentions are to console him, then Jean cries even harder.

God dammit.

“I see,” Reyes says simply.

Then nothing is said between them. Jean’s tears haven’t stopped. Reyes hasn’t let go of his hand. He likes it-needs it to anchor him. When the silence is about to kill him, Reyes finally speaks.

“What do you want me to do?”

It’s another mission to him, is it? One needing a carefully constructed plan, a fucking solution. A mission he needs to map and make it absolutely perfect.

This is not a mission or if it can be one, it’s a mission he cannot win.

“I don’t know,” he sobs.

Reyes cups his cheek. With his thumbs, Reyes wipes away his tears. They’re warm and comforting against his skin, and Jean finds himself leaning on them. His eyes are still closed; he’s still afraid of looking into Reyes’ eyes and falling.

“I’m scared too,” Reyes says. He leans against Jean’s forehead. “I was afraid at how you would react and when you did-”

Reyes lets the rest of his sentence dissolve in the air. Jean knows; he doesn’t need a reminder. Back at the cave, his mind overflew with emotions and he reacted with the only way he knows how, pulling at gun at him.

And maybe, Reyes fucking deserves it. At the time, he did. Jean wanted to pull the trigger then, wanted Reyes to remember the hurt, wanted him to feel the pain Jean felt.

Jean opens his eyes. They’re close. Their lips are merely inches apart.

“Why did you still lie to me?” he whispers.

“You didn’t make it easy to tell the truth,” Reyes murmurs. His breath is hot against his lips, and it invites him to move closer. “You walked around Kadara parading the Initiative. You told me you didn’t trust me on our first meeting. How am I supposed to tell you the truth?”

“Oh.”

“I like you a lot, Jean,” he breathes, slipping his hand under Jean”s chin. He has a thumb on his bottom lip. “Against my better judgement, I fell in love with a Initiative pet. Against my better judgement, I never stopped loving this Initiative pet. No matter how much he tells me, he doesn’t like me.”

“So I’m your Initiative pet then?” He whispers.

And he kisses him.

And it feels right, like it’s the only right thing Jean has ever done. Reyes’ lips fit perfectly on his as they have in the storage room; on the rooftops during a sunset; in the darkness of Reyes’ apartment when they fumble with buttons and zippers, desperate to feel each other’s skin; under Tartarus’ neon lights, rough and needy, biting each other’s mouth and wanting it to hurt; and the fleeting moments in between when all they can have is a quick touch of their lips. They fit.

The universe pushes them to be together, tying them together with fate’s red string. They fit and it’s time, Jean believes it to.

Without breaking the kiss, Jean crawls on Reyes’ lap, straddling his hips and laying his hands on his shoulders. He gasps when they part. “What do you want to do?”

“Try again?” Reyes smiles as if he’s about to propose something dangerous. “See if whatever this is lasts for more than a few weeks.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“We’ll just see what happens then.”


	3. [S] Attend a Pumpkin Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for Halloween last year and I've been meaning to post it. I'm not even embarrassed anymore by the contents of this fic. I think it's settled already. Like it's been a year.

Tartarus hardly celebrated any festivities but tonight the club was a venue for a Halloween party-the first ever in Andromeda. Reyes declined the invitation. Halloween wasn’t a holiday he celebrated as a child. As an adult, he spent every 31st of October-not Halloween-preparing flowers with his mother for their dead relatives. 

And he had work to do. Kadara was always in need of fixing.

But Kian insisted or rather, he hauled him out of his private room to take his mind off work and enjoy the festivities. The Pathfinder was attending, and if the Pathfinder was there, Jean would be right behind.

They hadn’t seen each other in months.

So here he was, dressed as a smuggler from one of those old sci fi movies he saw once or twice. The outfit was the only one he found in the closet which looked tasteful.

The club was packed, more than the usual weekday night on Tartarus. Most of the Port would rather spend their night in Kralla’s song or at their homes. The slums were still dangerous at night even with the change of leadership. Tonight was different. Half of Kadara was here for the Halloween party.

Reyes sent a quick message to Jean. 

To: Jean Ryder

From: Reyes Vidal

Heard the Pathfinder was invited to the Halloween party at Tartarus. You coming along?

-R

To: Reyes Vidal

From: Jean Ryder

Yeah, we’re here. I’m with Gabby, if you wanna come find me. Look for her, she’s pretty damn obvious.

-Jean

In the mass of bodies thrashing on the dance floor, Reyes didn’t spot her or Jean anywhere. He waded through them, bumping onto ghouls and vampires, and one of the Pathfinder’s squad mates. 

Liam…Kosta was it? He was dressed in all blue: shirt, pajamas and a long hood which stretched all the way to the floor. The only non-blue item he wore was a pair of yellow shoes.

“If you’re looking for Jean, he’s that way with the Pathfinder,” Kosta said, pointing his thumb at the bar. He assessed Reyes’ costume, looking up and down at his form.

“I assume you’re Han.”

Reyes shrugged. “It was the only thing I could find. And you are?”

Kosta parted his lips but before he said anything, their angaran crew mate ran to him. He held a pair of horns which resembled a candy corn. 

“Do I have to wear these all night, Liam?” The angara asked. His usual blue rofjin was now black aside from the cobalt zodiac sign-Scorpio?-on his lapel.  

“Yes, you do Jaal,” Kosta placed the horns back on his head. “It’s part of your costume.”

The angara grumbled, “you humans and your strange holidays.”

Reyes slipped away from the two and made his way to the bar.

The Pathfinder was sat on a stool with Nyx and her twin. Her bright orange outfit glowed under the neon lights of the club. A stylized sun was on the centre of her chest, and her blonde hair was fastened with a gold headband. Beside her, Nyx wore the same candy corn horns like the angara. However, she didn’t wear any face paint. A green zodiac sign-Virgo?-was painted on her carapace.

And Jean was draped in red: shirt, a cape, the gear symbol on his chest, and pajamas? And sunglasses, he wore sunglasses.  With the sunglasses on, Jean looked different. Before, he was a nerd and now, he was a nerd trying to look cool with sunglasses.

“Are you supposed to be a knight?” Reyes asked. He sat on the stool next to Jean, and order his usual.

“No, I’m not” Jean said, “And what are you? A knock off version of yourself? You  _are_ a smuggler.”

Gabriela and Nyx laughed. Reyes frowned, he didn’t intend to be here and the closet was lacking in tasteful costumes. 

“I’m not the one wearing pajamas,” he shot back.

That earned him a scowl. Nevertheless, Jean was handsome. Different from his “just-got-out-of-bed” look Reyes was accustomed to for months. He might not be a knight but the costume suited him-a knight in pajamas.  _His_ knight in soft…armour.

“So…” Reyes began, “what are you all supposed to be?”

Both twins glanced at each other, waiting who would explain what the fuck they were supposed to be. Other than themselves in colourful sleepwear. 

Finally, Jean broke the silence. “We’re uh characters from…a…”

“A classic novel!” Gabriela piped in. “One of Jean’s favourites.”

She winked at her twin. “In fact, everyone on the Tempest is dressed as characters from this…” She paused, covering her mouth to stifle a giggle. “ _Classic novel_ ”

And it was true.  The human members of the Tempest Crew wore brightly coloured outfits similar to Gabriela and Jean’s. Each one had a different symbol on their outfits. Kosta he saw earlier. Their scientist now joined him on the dance floor. Her costume was a black dress with a white spiral on her chest. She wore a pair of glittering red shoes and…dog ears. 

Their engineer was playing poker at a table across from the bar. From under the table, Reyes noted that he wasn’t wearing any pants. Or he was but he didn’t consider tight spandex as pants. They were yellow like the rest of his outfit. 

Only Harper wore something different. She traded the colourful outfits for a sleek white dress and a pink scarf.

Meanwhile, the alien crew wore candy corn horns of various shapes. Some wore face paint, others didn’t. Yet they all wore similar costumes-a black costume, plain aside from a zodiac sign printed on their outfits.

Not only the Tempest crew, the club was filled with people dressed in similar costumes. A number of them were dressed as Jean’s character, he assumed. Some of them wore a different outfit from Jean’s knight costume.

The Halloween party had a theme. A theme Reyes missed due to his last minute decision to attend. A theme Jean didn’t tell him in advance nor asked him if he wanted to coordinate costumes.

Or this was a beloved novel Kadara loved. He wasn’t even aware Jean was into literature, or reading anything other than scientific documents.

The music in the club changed to an upbeat song. 

“I love this song!” Gabriela said, and she hopped off the bar stool, dragging Nyx with her to the dance floor.  

Now they were alone, Reyes asked. “So why didn’t you tell me before?”

“That we were coordinating costumes?”Jean quirked an eyebrow. “Thought you might not like it once you find out who you’re going as.”

“I’m not that difficult to please.”

“No seriously, if we were going to coordinate, you are going as him.” Jean tapped a key on his Omni tool. A holo of a grey skinned boy flashed from his Omni tool. The boy had candy corn horns and a black shirt with a zodiac sign the colour of his skin.

“I admit I don’t fancy covering myself in gray paint.” Reyes admitted. The paint would be hell to take off, and he had to return as the Charlatan the next day. “But I could wear the horns and the shirt.”

Jean laughed. “He’s not your type. Too angry.” He gestured at his costume. “This is more your type.”

“And I’m supposed to believe this is your type?” Reyes bumped his elbow into Jean’s arm. 

The song changed to a ballad, an old pop tune from the 21st century. The momentum slowed on the dance floor as patrons found a partner to dance with or retired to the bar.  Jean hopped off his stool. He bowed; his cape bounced when he lowered his upper body.

The gesture reminded Reyes of their dance in his private room.

“Want me to be your knight this evening?” Jean asked, offering his hand.

Reyes took it, and allowed Jean to lead him to the floor. “I thought you weren’t dressed as a knight.”

“He isn’t. But I can be one for you.”

A flush of heat burned in his cheeks. Reyes was glad the lights were dim so Jean didn’t see what he did to him.

Of course, Jean still couldn’t dance. Reyes was amazed he didn’t step on Reyes’ feet nor his cape in his poor attempt at leading him.  so Jean couldn’t see Of course, Jean still couldn’t dance. He was amazed Jean hadn’t stepped on Reyes’ feet nor his cape in his poor attempt at leading him.

They bumped into Gabriela and Nyx. Gabriela made a face at her brother who scrunched his face in return. She was about to make another gesture but Nyx whispered something in her ear. She blushed then Nyx led her away from the dance floor.

They were alone. Jean pulled him close until Reyes could leaned his head on Jean’s shoulder. Reyes missed this, missed being so close to him he felt  _his_  heartbeat on his chest. 

Tomorrow, they would part. And tomorrow, Reyes would look up at the stars and wonder if he would ever come back. 

Reyes pulled back, enough that he could look at his face. He slipped those stupid sunglasses off. They hid his eyes. 

When Jean didn’t complain, Reyes titled his head and pressed their lips together. Jean didn’t attempt to pull back, and say they were out in the open. He missed this, missed them too with the way his lips glided over his or how he wrapped his arms around him.

The song had ended when they broke, breathless and yearning for more. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Reyes linked their hands.

Jean nodded, squeezing his hand. 

“Yeah.”


	4. ikaw ang tahanan ko

_Ikaw ang tahanan ko._

“You’re my home.”

Reyes smiles. He understands but not in the way Jean means it. _Ikaw ang tahanan ko_ is filtered as plain  _you’re my home_.  _Home_ replaces  _tahanan,_ losing the duality  _tahanan_  has.  _Tahanan_  means home yet its root word,  _tahan_ is means to cease crying. To Jean, Reyes fits both.

Maybe Reyes tells him something beautiful in Spanish, only to be torn apart by the translator into English.

Once, a long time ago, Jean’s ancestors spoke Spanish. Tagalog was long forgotten after Spain removed it from their forefathers’ tongues. Decades later, their great granchildren spoke Tagalog. Spanish was long forgotten, and its remains spliced into Tagalog; forcing a patchwork of words which never fit.

It was centuries before their decesdants spoke both.

Jean tries again _,_ finds the courage to say what he truly means. He pulls him close; his lips touch the shell of his ear. Jean switches Reyes’ translator off because neither English nor Spanish can capture the true meaning of the phrase.

“Mahal kita,” he says _,_ without the translator filtering it to  _I love you_  in English or  _Te amo_ in Spanish.

Yet neither  _amo_  nor  _love_ carry the second meaning of  _mahal-_ expensive. Most things which are expensive are precious,  _loved_.

Reyes fits both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was inspired by a beautiful thing I saw on twitter. Wasn't completely satisfied with this drabble so I incorporated some of the ideas into another fic, starlight


	5. just a sad song, without nothing to say

An empty cup awaits Reyes when he returns home. He picks it up from the living room floor, noting the two tea bags inside the cup. Jean is on the balcony, watching.

 

Reyes moves to the kitchen. He cleans the cup, and prepares the tea-black as Jean loves it. Or he thinks. Jean never reacts when Reyes makes him tea but it stops Jean from taking another smoke. And so long as they follow the doctor’s orders, he will be fine, right?

Somehow, this has become routine for him. Wake up, make sure Jean is still with him, go to work. Come home, make sure Jean hasn’t lost it, go to sleep. Rinse and repeat the next day, and the next as it has since Jean moved with him.

He’s exhausted. He’s tired of asking Jean about the shadows plaguing his mind, only to be met with deflection.

The kettle whistles. Reyes pours the hot water over the tea bag. The perfume of the tea wafts through the air as he delivers the cup to the balcony. It calms him.

“Hey,” he pecks Jean’s cheek. Reyes pushes the steaming cup into his hands. Jean sips the cup, and looks back at the sunset over Kadara Port.

“Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong,” Reyes says.

No answer.

Reyes closes the distance between them so their hips are touching. He slides an arm around Jean’s waist.

When Jean doesn’t protest, Reyes tries again. “Tell me what’s wrong, please.”

No answer.

“Jean, I’m trying to help you.” Reyes sighs. The exhaustion has worn him down yet he continues. “Tell me what’s wrong and I can fix it. Let me fix this.”

In an almost-kiss, Jean presses his forehead against Reyes. Jean’s expression remains impassive yet his dark eyes reveal a storm underneath.

“Maybe this is something you cannot fix,” Jean says, and somewhere deep in his heart, he knows Jean is right. Reyes cannot erase the memories of Meridian Control or can he undo the jagged white streak dividing Jean’s hair. Both are permanent scars from his captivity by the Archon, no matter how much Jean wants them gone.

But Reyes will keep trying. Fix this, fix them both. Even if the demons plaguing Jean swallows him whole.

Kadara has always been more beautiful during sunsets. The sky paints the Port in varying shades of pink and orange. Life in the streets slows as they return to their homes or seek a new life in Kralla’s Song. It reminds Reyes of a simpler time before Kadara, before the Scourge and before Andromeda. Back when Reyes hoped for a future outside his father’s footsteps.

He has.

Reyes squeezed Jean’s hand, attempting to feel comforting.

Jean squeezes it back.


End file.
